Category: Poet’s Note

In this weave of sparkling
Laughter, we walk alongside,
Baiting disasters. When the silence
Was a melody that wanders
The soul of mortals, parched,
The company of a few
Bequethes the gloom with a spark.

On the side, it remains.

The cynicist in every word
The doubt in each smile,
The broken parts
Scorched with mellifluous
Words. Its the reflection
Caught between the present
And the fast.

The serenade.

Between the blurred images.
Seems, time still flows in and out.
The future remains, every so unclear.

Dear reader, Do you ever seems the whispers of the past wandering into the way you see percieve people? Does it change your outlook and sometimes brings out the cynicist in you? Memories somehow become a part of you, but do you think you can defy them when you make decisions for the future?

His eyes were liquid honey
Blazing and brimming awake;
‘Twas twilight reflected on his gaze.

She stares away, in a daze
Instincts clouded and lips locked away,
Memories clouded and muddled.
This familiar haze….

But, there it stays,
The raging storm
From a time before dawn.
Yet again, the familiar emotions
Grips the saint; so silence,
Please, let me tame the devil.
Let the ugliness and lingering touches fade
Lightly, till she reaches the meadow.

In this haze, let the past fade,
She will give up,
For now, it isn’t her place.
Maybe later, all that will remain
Is the nostalgic ache.

Dear reader, Have your ever felt like your past is impeding your progress? How do you move past it? In this case, I write about crushes, which seem to impart the same emotions – dread and illogical happiness, regardless of your age. Yet, we may choose not to pursue it due to unforeseeable repercussions. It’s a strange emotion indeed.

Burning to fly,
Rising from the ashes
And learning –
With each fall,
Pleading with the next one
To rise. In the darkest
Hour, with each twilight
Bust into flames
And be reborn,
More alive
Than destiny claims.

Poet’s note: Dear reader, have you ever sat in a darkened room and just crying yourself? Hopeless? People say it makes you stronger, eventually. For now, I’ll just say – breathe.

Fill my heart with this feeling
That encaptures the broken pieces.
I saw the clash of contraries,
A melding not mixing
Of the light and dark;
A powerful symphony.

Hollow and content,
Wandering till twilight
Hoping the answers will suffice.
Beautiful, as it wrecks the cynic;
What am I to make of existence?

Poet’s Note: Have you ever been stuck in crossroads due to simple choices? While there is white, black and grey, I feel like I’m often stuck in blue, locking myself out of everything. Or maybe just barricading myself inside? Oh well.

This city is a mystery
That I cannot fathom;
It’s a breath of fresh air
And turmoil at heart,
It’s like his touch leading you
While his mind is afar.

A clash of the past and the present,
Her mind is yearning
While the numbness haunts
Her reasoning.
Do you roll with it or
Do you walk away?
Do you shun yourself
Or do you shut you pace?
Tell me,
Should I listen to you,
Or will the whispers win today?

City of brotherly love,
The place where her
Heart went astray.

Poet’s note: Is it just me or do people tend to have more flings during the summer? Do you restrict yourself too much? I think I’m finally giving myself a pass to explore beyond the restrictions that I placed on myself.

In those moments,
The fireflies took over the surface,
And the stars whipped past the sky.
I lie here,
With the dewdrops of night,
And the grass tickling my sides.
I see you smiling,
Looking up,
It’s like your mind is wandering
With mine; at the very moment
Unleash the fairyland
On which we travel,
Embracing monsters
And facing the dreams.
I’m next to you,
Clad in metal,
We walk.
Wind on our faces and all.
Our thoughts differ,
And we drift again.
Yet, those summer nights
Under the wrap of the pines
Burning, your warmth remains.

Dear reader, what was your first summer love like? Was it seasonal or did it last? I think summer love is magical, and quite different from winter. To put it blunty, I have no idea how people manage to cuddle while sweating. It is truly magical 😂

In this mighty grey,
She trails behind.
Behind her kin,
Her friends,
Behind the ones.
Trying to be better.

It is such a slow progress
Once, then twice and then some,
Breaking spirits as they come.
What will you do?

Unchained, she limps on;
Scrapping wounds,
Sweating blood.
Trailing behind,
‘Loser’ is the term
With which she is defined.

Yet, she is unbreakable,
No, let me clarify,
She is broken
With golden inlays.
Unbreakable as the pieces lay,
Scattered to be reclaimed.
Her soul retains
It’s hearth at its very core;
She remains
Unbridled.

Are you there
Listening?
Or maybe trailing
To watch
Her, succumb?

No, they are unbreakable.
Among all gists of things,
They realize, that like the
Fire and water, and the spaces
In between,
They remain
The unbridled spirit;
Especially in the spaces
That the dark claims.

They are
Unbreakable.

Poet’s note: Have you ever felt that you were trailing behind? Have you ever dealt with depression that wrecks you? If you’re still breathing, if you’re still trying, whether it is for you or for someone else, to me, you are unbreakable, and just damn inspiring. Good afternoon!

Like the wind blowing
Throughout the year,
We change our tides, failing
And fairing; to never disappear
Into the abyss
That we, oh so fear.
In the darkness within the depths,
And the light past the distress,
We dance in the rain,
Even when gloom remains.

Still.
We strive; humans so turbulent,
Yet we rise,
Past the blunders and the beasts
That haunt our time.

The journey in the dark,
The journey to steer
Between the narrow
Wisps of hope; blues
Reds and green,
And everything in between
Melds with my
Metallic skin.

The past, so slow to fade,
Yet the future,
Glows.
Are you awake?

Poet’s Note: What are the demons that haunt you now? Have you ever dealt with something that tore you apart, but built you at the same time? It is not always rosy, and sometimes it is downright shitty. But we, humans, we persevere. That’s what I think. Good evening!

A rift, ever so small
That can uplift,
Or let you down.
A momentary impact
To change the tides,
A monumental moment
That can change
Your time. As we wander
Past the black and white,
The grey gracefully
Pounces into your life.